Aggie's perfect storm

Zoom needs a little time to pull her extra-special prize guest bloggage together, but watch this space. It's coming soon, and it's gonna be brilliant! In the meantime, to cover, I'll do what ESIs do best. No, not that. I mean metablogging.

It has become overwhelmingly needful to metablog our own Essex girl.

Evidence suggests Aggie has found that the road to new-age enlightenment is no easy thing, strewn as it is with a perfect storm of pitfalls. And bad hair days. Not to mention bent-to-broken metaphors. Poor thing is now so confused, she's laying off drinking and trying to reinvent herself as a common craft blogger...

What are the ethics, here? Aggie is one of us. I mean, I love her, and she is, like Mary Poppins, Practically Perfect in Every Way. Uh, but she remains in place as our next-best Muse. Better yet, she's not here to defend herself... and we need material. No honour among metabloggers. 'Nuff said.

Anyway, I was at Bank & Slater yesterday, nose to the ground, sniffin' opportunity, when I chanced to look up. And was struck with awe. I mean, the signage at this one corner has Aggie's enlightenment covered: martini lounge named for her favorite yoga position, strong coffee options, a hair salon to repair the unfortunate mullet experiment, and a relaxing day spa. The salon's name? Perfection. Nothing better than that.

And what about that constant, soothing flow of large American cars, huh?

Truly, when one seeks satori, the devil is in the distractions. Crafting? Aggie, we barely recognize you! Just ignore the proven fact that when anyone in a dysfunctional group tries to change for the better, other members will pressure her to return to old, familiar patterns, so they can avoid confronting their own dysfunctions. Instead, think about this, Ags: Lotus Martini Lounge!

People in their lounging robes

I love Le Nordik, the scandinavian spa just 20 minutes from Ottawa. It is amazing, and reasonably priced. Much cheaper than therapy, and you come away feeling refreshed and rejuvenated without having to talk to anyone. In fact, they encourage silence there. I loved everything about the place, except for one thing: people wearing lounging robes, robe de chambres, morning dresses, housecoats, bathrobes, wrappers, yukatas -- whatever you happen to call them.
I was trying to explore what I dislike about them, and I think it may all come back to the intimacy problem. I feel strangers are getting too intimate with me when they are wearing those things. On the other hand, I love people in their bathing suits. No problem there. I think I might be ok with them naked, too, if it were a nudist scandinavian spa. But, there was something about seeing that silver-haired devil in the bar area in his red terry cloth robe that freaked me out. Maybe I need to discuss this with my therapist.